Burning Shores
by Lyra the Bard
Summary: Maitimo discovers the second youngest of his father’s sons, Pityafinwe, in despair and lamenting over the loss of his twin. He decides to offer words of comfort as he tries to do the same for himself.


Title: Burning Shores

Authoress: Lyra the Bard

Warnings: Angst, Slight Gore, and a poor Amrod…well actually he doesn't have that name yet. So should I say Pityafinwe? Also contains a rather sullen Maedhros (Maitimo) for you all.

Summary: Maitimo discovers the second youngest of his father's sons, Pityafinwe, in despair and lamenting over the loss of his twin. He decides to offer words of comfort as he tries to do the same for himself.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Silmarillion. It is all credited to its respected creator of such a great work, J.R.R. Tolkien. I own only any created characters I insert into the story and of course the plot of this story as well.

Authoress' Note: Decided to write another small story involving the sons of Feanor and to fix the grave mistake I made in error to my first fic involving the twins. *Slaps self out of shame* I had accidently used their Sindarin names rather than Quenya, but luckily that issue has been fixed. I also ended up pulling this out of my back end out of boredom and slight agitation due to finals week at my college, which is hectic by the way, to take my mind away from it. Anyway, enjoy! Please R&R!

* * *

Maitimo turned after a long moment of silence and found Pityafinwe, now the youngest of their family, staring out into the sea. He held back the lump that threatened to rise in his throat as he took note of his brother's state. The young elf was slumped over on a nearby rock, the light of the burning Teleri ships playing off of his features with twisting tendrils of smoke and fire. Every now and then a shadow would pass over Pityafinwe's face and he would turn to see that it was usually the form of one of his other brothers passing in front of the dying flames. Maitimo shut his eyes for a moment before opening them and sighing in exasperation. He was exhausted; they all were. None could deny that. Not even their father, who was the physically strongest and most energetic of them, seemed to be sapped of strength as Maitimo spied him from across the fires.

His face was drawn and haggard, his dark eyes staring into the flames as the rest of his sons finished what they had started, their hands working to throw the remaining pieces of the ships into oblivion. Maitimo tore his gaze away from his father's inanimate form and then looked back to his youngest brother, pity overtaking him as he approached. Like the rest of them, Pityafinwe had been horrified upon learning that his younger brother, and twin, had been burned along with the very ships that they had set sail in only hours beforehand. However, Maitimo noted as he looked down to see that the other elf had not budged an inch, it seemed that Pitya had taken it the hardest of all. His expression softened as he sat next to his brother, his brows raised in concern as he watched his brother for a few more moments before finally deciding to speak. "Pitya…" Maitimo said as he felt his voice leave him upon seeing his sibling turn. If he had been heartbroken before, his heart had indeed been shattered now upon beholding the other's face.

Pityafinwe's eyes were rimmed with tears, their outer edges a deep crimson. The usual grey that Maitimo was used to seeing was no longer such, their color now seeming to be as dark as night as Pitya took one look at him and then turned his attention back towards the shore and the sea that lay beyond it. Silence soon reigned. Neither of the elves said anything afterwards and all Maitimo could hear was the crackling of the dying flames nearby along with the occasional scuffling of boots. The silence stretched on for a few more minutes, but to Maitimo, it felt as if it had been hours. For all he knew it had been, but he turned to see that the flames were still bright, though they seemed to be dying away on the horizon as the rest of his siblings pushed the last burning ship back out into the sea. His concentration was soon broken however, and by the other by his side no less. "He wanted to go back home," Pitya said as his voice nearly broke before he gained his composure.

Maitimo said nothing but fought back tears of his own that threatened to flow and he quickly wiped at his eyelids in irritation with the back of his sleeve. His breathing quickened and then suddenly eased as he composed himself and turned back towards his sibling as Pityafinwe spoke for the second time. "He wanted to go back home and seeour mother again." The elder of the two didn't say anything as he felt his heart clench. He then turned and looked out over the sea to see the sun beginning to break over the crashing waves and burning remnants of what was once the Swan Ships of the Teleri. His throat once again felt as if it were going to slam shut as his eyes traveled across each of the ships in the distance and he distantly wondered on which one his brother's body remained. If it there were even any remains left, he thought bitterly as he brought his eyes back onto Pitya's form. A movement to his right caught his eyes and forcefully dragged his vision farther along the bank until it finally landed upon Makalaure, his face turned towards the sea and fire. Maitimo noticed that his hands were curled upon one another, his fingers entwined and white hot.

He did not doubt that Makalaure was fighting to keep control of his emotions, as they all were, before he finally summoned enough courage to face his as of now youngest sibling. "Ambarussa," he said softly as he reached over and grasped the other redhead's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. He instantly regretted his choice of name, for he then felt the younger elf flinch from his touch and stiffen. Maitimo's heart hurt and he mentally kicked himself. He should not have used Pityafinwe's mother-name, for it had also been that of their fallen brother before she had changed it to that of the "Fated", and he drew his hand back as he felt Pitya's shoulders shake as he fought to hold back the grief that threatened to overwhelm him. He could only sigh before laying his hand back gently onto his brother's shoulder as he allowed his gaze to fall back to the sea, his grey eyes taking in the dim sun on the horizon as the last of the burning ships died away…taking Telu along with it. It seemed like hours had passed, and he noticed that light in the form of reds and yellows mixed with a tinge of orange began to smoke across the shore and his mind was soon drawn to the night before. It all reminded him far too much of fire and he felt the sickening knot in his throat return as images of faces and blood assaulted his vision. The rising sun did little to dampen the visions twisting within him, for it reminded him of the burning of Alqualonde's beautiful spires. He soon tore himself away as he felt movement and he turned to see that Pitya had placed one of his hands over his own.

"He did not want to go, Nelya," Pitya answered as a tear trickled down his slender cheek, its surface gleaming like one of the Silmarils that their father so loved. "He didn't want to go with us in the very beginning. He wanted to go back home to our mother and seek pardon…" Maitimo said nothing, but could only look at his brother as his heart sank further as the other continued to speak in broken tones. "He wanted to go to Manwe himself and seek forgiveness for the blood he had shed at my side when we attacked Alqualonde…He hated himself for it…" Pitya gave his older brother's hand a tight squeeze before turning to face him, his dark orbs still stained with tears. "I hated myself for it. I fought with him, telling him that we should go with our father though I myself wanted to also go back to see her and our home. I perhaps wanted it just as much as him."

Pitya then went silent again and said nothing, holding his elder brother's eyes in his own as a tear escaped and trickled down his blood and smoke stained cheek. Maitimo just gazed back, his eyes holding the same intensity before softening. As he spoke, his voice nearly cracked. "And you have decided to not go back?" he asked as one of his slender brows rose in question and confusion as he looked upon the youngest of Feanor. Pitya let out a snort that sounded close to condescending as he turned his eyes back towards the lapping waters by the shore, his tears drying on his darkened face as ash began to stick across it. "Yes, I will stay. There is no reason to go back, not now. _Amil_ has him now, within the Halls of Mandos. I can feel it Maitimo… Father would only want to take him back if he were to return from the Halls of the Dead, clothed anew." Maitimo tensed, his muscles suddenly taut, as he turned towards their father, wondering if he had heard the comment. However, Feanor had not moved nor did he give any indication that he had heard Pitya, his eyes still staring into the fire as the others moved about before falling silent. The eldest of the sons could only let loose another sigh as his brows furrowed, his mind muddled with images and words as he turned his attention back to the other beside him. "Then you are sure that you will stay?" he asked as his voice lilted through the air in silent hushed tones.

Pitya merely nodded, his red locks falling upon his brow as he stared hard at the horizon. "Father knows what is best." He said nothing else, his mind apparently lost as he stared out into the sea, his dark eyes glistening in Arien's light. Maitimo shook his head in hurt, attempting to fight back the tears that threatened to overflow and looked back to the waves beyond. The ships were now gone, their great forms sunken beneath the churning waters as the sun finally peaked from its slumber, covering the ocean with bright sparkles as its light hit the water and nearly blinded him. He squinted to block out the harsh rays as he felt a cool breeze brush against his cheek, sending with it the scent of salt and blood as he fought back revulsion. His mind fumbled as he tried to grasp the situation with a steady heart, but could only shiver as he felt it fall like ash before him.

_"I hope that you are right, Ambarussa,"_ Maitimo thought to himself as his nostrils flared. _"I hope that you are right…"_ His gaze lingered upon the burning shores and he soon realized that his brother had not once removed his hand from his own and with that comfort in mind; he inwardly smiled as the shores continued to burn with light. However, he soon saw the tips of great elf ships heading over the tips of the sea, and he felt his throat clench. His inner smile soon faded as he realized that those onboard had most likely seen the fire and his heart shuddered as he realized that he had become a betrayer, despite the fact that he had not participated in the burning. And he knew that they were the ones that had been betrayed.


End file.
